Human Feast Festival- Equius x Reader
by introspectiveSeeker
Summary: It's Thanksgiving, as well as the day I decided to introduce my boyfriend, Equius, to my parents. We're going to help cook, despite one little detail: Equius doesn't know how to cook! But with me by his side, I'm sure we can do anything.


Notes:

[f/n]= first name

In this fic, you're old enough to have moved out of your parents' house~

Plus, you have a mom and a dad, for those who don't have one or the other, so please pretend.

If you're a vegetarian, please disregard the meat~

**Happy Thanksgiving!**

"Equius, honey, calm down," I command soothingly to the sweating troll. I pull out one of the many handkerchiefs I carry around and dab at his skin. "They'll love you, believe me."

"I have never before partaken in this human feast festival!" Equius cries in his deep toned voice. "I know not of the cultural expectations one must have to appear proper during the festivities!"

I sigh as I glance at the looming house before us. My parents' house, where they await to meet my boyfriend, who is having a nervous meltdown. "Look, there are no expectations, you just have to be yourself," I reassure him. "You and I will be helping out with the cooking, that's it. I presume you're capable of eating a lot?" It's Thanksgiving, one of the holidays that actually allow you to be a slob. I'd figured it would be easier for Equius to introduce him to my family on such a laid back holiday, but looks like I was wrong.

He nods, but blurts out, "I am not quite capable at cooking."

I smile amusingly at him. "Oh, I know, but I'll be there to give you directions. Now then, are you ready?" He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows heavily. "Be _strong_, Equius," I say cheerfully as I lead him to the door.

I press my finger against the doorbell, releasing the high pitched ringing that announces our arrival. The door opens to reveal my mom, who greets us with a wide smile. "[f/n]!" she cries as she sweeps me into her arms.

"Hey there, Mom," I say with a laugh as I return the embrace.

She pulls away and glances at Equius, who is standing rigidly. "Is this the, what do they call them...oh, that's it, troll! Is this the troll you are dating?" she asks me.

"Yes, Mom, this is Equius," I answer.

"My, young man, you look so dashing!" she gushes. She leans over to my ear and whispers, "Look at those muscles!"

"Mom!" I cry as I shove at her playfully.

"Thank you, it is lovely to make your acquaintance," Equius greets nervously.

"Such manners!" Mom says with a laugh. "Pleasure is all mine."

"[f/n]?" another voice calls, and my dad appears behind Mom. He fixes his gaze on Equius, eying him sternly. "Who is this?"

"This is Equius, Dad," I answer while I take Equius' hand in mine, squeezing it reassuringly.

Dad's eyes glare at Equius, as if they are trying to shoot lasers at the the muscly troll. "I see." Dad murmurs, as if he is forcing the words through his teeth. "Welcome, come in."

I tug at Equius' hand, which doesn't budge him at all, but he jolts out of his stupor and walks with me into the house. I lean close to his ear and whisper, "Remember, relax!" Addressing everyone else, I announce, "Equius and I will be helping with the cooking!"

"Thanks!" Mom exclaims. She places her hand on Equius' shoulder, and I'm extremely grateful she doesn't comment on his sweatiness. "Follow me, I'll lead you to the kitchen!" I stay behind as I watch her walk away with Equius, who keeps glancing back at me in a plea for help. Equius was never good at physical contact, so I can't help but giggle at his flustered face.

I turn my attention to Dad. "Dad, don't bully my boyfriend," I demand sternly. Placing my hands on my hips, I glare at Dad with an intensity that rivals his.

After a heated staring match, Dad finally backs down. "Alright, I'll try to get along with this...troll," he mutters.

The glare is wiped away from my face with a cheerful smile."Thanks, Dad!" I cheer as I charge forward and hug him. He pats my back briefly, grunting in response. After pulling away, Dad and I enter the kitchen. Many delicious scents waft past my nose, enticing my stomach into a hungry grumble.

"[f/n]!" Equius cries with relief. In his hands, he holds a multitude of spices. "I'm glad you're here; your mom handed me these bottles and told me to spice the turkey. How on earth do you spice a turkey?"

Fighting back my laughter, I take the bottles away from his hands and place them on the counter. "Easy, you sprinkle a bit of spice from each bottle onto the turkey." I hand him one of the bottles. "Here, lightly shake the bottle over the turkey." Only, I should of known better. 'Lightly' does not belong in Equius' dictionary. He tries to, but with one shake, the force actually breaks the bottle, the contents of the bottle spewing forth onto the turkey. Staring at the turkey covered in basil, I declare brightly, "It's ok, I can fix this!"

As I carry the turkey to the sink, Equius frustratingly cries, "I am not suited for cooking!"

"Anyone can cook," I tell him as I rinse away the spice. "Even you, Mr. Muscle." After placing the turkey back onto the platter, I swipe some of the spilled spice off of the counter onto my palm. "Hold out your hand." I dump the spice onto his open palm. "There, now pinch some of the spice and sprinkle it onto the turkey." He obliges, successfully sprinkling basil onto the turkey. "Good! Do that with the rest of the spices."

"[f/n]," Mom calls, "can you get the potatoes boiling?"

"Got it!" I respond.

By the time the potatoes are done boiling, Equius manages to finish the turkey. He had taken so long because he had painstakingly and carefully sprinkled the turkey with calculated measurements.

"What is my next task?" he asks as I strain the potatoes.

"You are going to mash these potatoes," I inform him. Luckily, the potatoes are kept in a steel pot, so Equius can't smash it just by touching it. And what's better is we don't even need a blender! "Go wash your hands, you're going to need them."

He stares at me quizzically for a moment, but obliges. "What purpose are my hands going to serve?" he asks after wiping his hands dry on a towel I had brought for him.

"You're going to pound these potatoes to a pulp," I tell him with a smile.

"I see," he replies. Placing his palms into the pot, he manages to mash up the potatoes in no time. He pulls his mashed potato covered hands out of the pot, staring at them disdainfully. "This is a very vulgar method," he tells me with distaste.

With a giggle, I tell him, "Just go wash your hands again!" He stares at me for a moment, his face colored in blue. He denies it, but he actually enjoys being ordered around.

"Fine," he grunts as he obliges. As he washes his hands, I add spices to the potatoes as I stir them.

"[f/n], we're going to the store!" Mom calls. "We forgot something!" I watch as Mom drags Dad out the door. Dad looked like he really didn't want to leave me and Equius alone, while my Mom had a knowing grin on her face.

"Thanks Mom," I say happily under my breath. Raising my voice, I call to Equius, "Hey, taste these potatoes!"

He walks over to me, and I hold my finger dipped in mashed potatoes up to his lips. He stares at my finger intensely, his face flushed in a deep blue. "This is quite improper!" he declares.

In response, I wiggle my finger at him. "Just try it!" He hesitates, but eventually he shyly opens his mouth. His lips close around my finger, his tongue swirling away the mashed potatoes. I pull away my finger, my face slightly flushed. "How does it taste?"

"Good," he murmurs quietly.

"Let me taste," I whisper as I lean forward and press my lips against his. I keep my eyes open as I watch his response. His hands lift in the air, but freeze in place. He wants to hold me, but he's too scared he'll hurt me. To help him, I gently wrap my hands around his and guide them to my hips. Very slowly, his hands press tighter against my hips until he manages to press me closer against him. I smile into the kiss as I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. Now that he's more confident, the kiss gradually becomes more rough and passionate. His lips move rapidly against mine, the sparks passing between us feeling like it'll catch fire.

I stumble backwards and slam against the counter. I feel my feet lift off the ground, our lips never leaving each others', as Equius places me on top of the counter. My legs wrap around him, pressing him closer, closer. I pull at his hair, forcing our lips to press more tightly together. I don't want Equius to be scared of touching me. I'm not as fragile as he treats me. I want him to press against me, to claim me with his every being. If he doesn't get that, I'll make him see it.

When we pull away, both of us are panting desperately for air. Once enough air has filled my lungs, I manage to breath out, "Wow, those potatoes are _damn _tasty." He licks his lips, making me want to kiss him again, but I have to hold back. I hear Mom and Dad's car pulling in, so I rapidly jump off of the counter. Damn it, I wish the store wasn't so nearby! I clear my throat before brightly exclaiming, "Now then, let's get started on the stuffing!"

Amazingly enough, Equius manages to handle everything just fine. After a few hours of toiling in the kitchen, we manage to fix up the entire Thanksgiving feast. If you ask me, everything went swimmingly perfect!

As I carry the steaming turkey to the table, I am ecstatic to notice that Equius and Dad are deep in friendly conversation. "Ready to eat?" I ask everyone. I am met with various cheers as I settle myself beside Equius. I swiftly peck him on the cheek while Dad is busy watching Mom serve the food. I whisper to him, "See, was that so bad?"

He leans close to my ear, so close I thought he was going to nibble it. In a whisper, he replies, "Kissing helps." I hold back my giggle as Mom hands me my plate of food.

By the end of the day, Mom and even Dad approve of Equius, much to my relief. As strange as he may be, I can't help that I love the sweaty troll.

And who knows, maybe he'll cook every Thanksgiving meal from now on! I plan on sticking with him for a very long time.

**The End**


End file.
